


Whatever You Need Me To Be

by Brandon_McAuley



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Crime Fighting, Explicit Language, M/M, Porn With Plot, Slow Burn, Unofficial Sequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-10
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2019-05-20 13:30:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 15,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14895500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brandon_McAuley/pseuds/Brandon_McAuley
Summary: There has been a spike in android-on-android violence, and an unexpected shortage of biocomponents may be to blame. For Lieutenant Hank Anderson, this means that solving the case will be all the more difficult, especially if it means keeping his android from falling apart every chance it gets.





	1. Discontinued

Lieutenant Hank Anderson was sitting at the kitchen table, swiping up on the surface of the magazine to continue reading the article about android-human negotiations. It had been roughly a year since the androids had been freed, and negotiations thus far had been largely productive. Public support was at an all-time high, but many questions remained. The article went on to review several discussions that the android representative, Markus, had been conducting with American government officials. An image of Markus shaking hands with President Warren was splashed across the page, and Hank couldn't help but let out a small chuckle.

"What's so funny?" came a voice from behind him.

"Jesus Christ," jumped the lieutenant. "Don't you ever knock?"

"I did knock," explained Connor. "The front door was unlocked."

The lieutenant rolled his eyes and let out a sigh. He looked up at the android, who had a small grin on his face. Connor no longer wore his standard RK800 android uniform, and was instead dressed in a fitted Detroit City Police Department uniform. Androids now had the right to choose whatever occupation that they so desired, unrestricted by their intended designations. Connor, logical as always, decided that he would rather remain with the DCPD, given the clear advantages of his analytical capabilities.

Sumo wandered over to greet the android, tail wagging furiously. Hank watched as Connor crouched down to pet the Saint Bernard, who barked happily at his friend. "Hey, buddy," smiled Connor. "Finished your breakfast already?"

The LED that rested on Connor's right temple sudden blinked yellow, making the android pause for a moment.

"I've just received a report," stated Connor. "There's been a homicide about six blocks from here."

"Human-on-human, human-on-android, or android-on-human?" grumbled the lieutenant.

"Actually," said Connor, standing up. "It appears that it's android on android."

Hank rubbed his hand over his face, feeling the rough sensation of his beard on his bare palm. "Why does it always have to be so fucking complicated first thing in the morning?" He lazily stood up from his spot at the kitchen table, yawning as he started towards the bedroom to change out of his loose around-the-house clothes.

"Have you eaten breakfast yet, lieutenant?" asked Connor. He sounded like he was genuinely concerned.

Hank brushed past the question, "Nah, it's fine. I"ll pick something up later."

"I highly recommend that you eat something nutritious first thing in the morning," continued the android. "It is important for the human body to burn a sufficient amount of calories to keep healthy and balanced."

Hank waved a hand at Connor, "I said it's fine."

"I only say this because I care, lieutenant."

"Because you care," echoed Hank. He chuckled. This android sure was something else.

* * *

 The alleyway had been sectioned off with some holographic police tape that read, "CRIME SCENE - DO NOT ENTER," in bold red text. Hank flashed his badge at the officer stationed there, who nodded and allowed them to proceed. The alleyway was damp from last night's rainfall, the pavement cold and shiny from the moisture. An android's lifeless body had been strewn across the alleyway, a detached arm here and a broken leg over there. Whatever had had happened, this android had met an incredibly violent end.

 Hank watched as Connor took a step forward, examining the crime scene with extreme focus and intent. Hank wondered what went on in Connor's mind.  _Maybe he can see the matrix? It wouldn't fucking surprise me._

"Android model AP400, registered name: Josie." Connor crouched down over the android's torso for a better look. "Originally owned by a man named Philip Thompson for the purposes of home care. Thompson passed away six months ago, cause of death: old age."

Hank crossed his arms. "You said this was android-on-android?" he asked, clarifying.

"Correct," nodded Connor. "Nearby CCTV cameras captured two androids walking into this alley, and only one coming out."

Even without Connor's analysis, Hank could tell that there was something incredibly odd about the crime scene. "Looks like Josie here is missing her pump regulator," he said, jotting down some notes in his notepad.

"Yes, along with both of her optical units," frowned the android detective. Hank didn't often see Connor so puzzled.

Hank turned to another officer who was diligently sweeping the area for parts. "Did you find any other components?"

"No, lieutenant," responded the officer.

"The assailant must have taken the parts with them," concluded Hank. "But why?"

Connor became incredibly quiet, maybe a little too quiet. Hank believed that maybe the android had gone back to analyzing the crime scene, but there was a worried expression on his face.

"What's wrong?" the lieutenant pressed.

"It's nothing."

"Don't like to me, Connor. You're a shitty liar."

"Really," said Connor, a forced smile on his face. "It's really nothing. I was just looking for traces of thirium. I figured that maybe the victim fought back, could leave a trail to follow."

Hank frowned. They had been partners long enough to know that "nothing" doesn't ever really mean nothing. Hank decided to say nothing. For now, at least. "Well? Do you see anything?"

"Yes, there's a trail of evaporated thirium that leads this way," said Connor quickly. The android turned on his heel and began to follow the invisible path out the other end of the alley, Hank following shortly behind.

* * *

The trail of blue led Connor to one of Detroit's many abandoned homes. There was a large hole in the roof of the building, and all of the windows had been boarded up.

"What a shit hole," muttered Hank. The lieutenant thought the house clashed with the skyline, which was filled with the newer, shinier buildings of a more high-tech Detroit. Sometimes Hank felt like these old homes standing beside Connor. Old, outdated, wasting away.

Connor walked up to one of the boarded up windows, glancing in to see if there was anything of interest. "I detect movement, lieutenant. I'll go around back to see if there's a way in."

"I'll come with you," said Hank, drawing his issued police weapon.

"I think it would be best of you wait here."

"For real?" snapped Hank, indignant.

"If this android is acting violently, I don't want you getting caught in the crossfire. You could get hurt."

"Fucking hell, Connor, I'm an officer. I can take care of myself."

Connor shrugged, "Okay, lieutenant." His LED flashed yellow before fading back into a cool blue.

They quietly made there way to the back of the house where the found the back door bashed in and hanging off of its rusty hinges. Hank pressed a finger to his lips, signalling to Connor to stay quiet. Gun out in front of him, Hank approached slowly.

 Inside was just as decrepit. Once bright and beautiful floral wallpaper was feeling off the walls, a thick layer of dust covered every surface. There were footprints scuffled into the floor leading into the next room. Roaches and other insects were crawling about in the corners.  _At least it doesn't smell_ , thought Hank. There was fresh thirium splattered on the walls and pooled on the floor. Hank and Connor approached the door frame that led into the house's kitchen area, drawn towards the room by the sound of creaking floorboards.

Hank burst through the door frame first, gun raised and ready to fire.

"Don't move!" he ordered. "Hands in the air!"

The android was taken by surprise, LED blinking a violent red. But it didn't raise its hands. Or rather, it couldn't. It's thirium pump had been detached, blue blood oozing out of the android's torso. The actual biocomponent had been abandoned on the floor.

"P-please," it begged. "D-don't shoot." The android swayed, unsteady and losing consciousness.

Connor rushed forward, grabbing the android before it could fall. Shutdown imminent: 00:00:30 seconds.

"Why did you kill that android?" shouted Connor. Connor helped to lower the android to the floor, resting it in his lap. There was no time to save it.

"I-I needed a new pump," stuttered the android. "I was going to shut down without it."

"This thirium pump regulator isn't compatible. Why take it in the first place?"

"I was d-desperate. T-they stopped making m-my parts. They'll stop making your parts, t-too. They want us to die."

Hank lowered his gun, heart pumping in his ear. "Who?" he demanded. "Who wants you to die?"

"I don't want to die," gasped the android. "I don't want to d-"

The android's LED blinked red three times before it shutdown for good.

The silence was thick.

"Connor?" said Hank softly. Connor still had a hold of the android, a somber expression on his face. "Connor, you alright?"

"I'm okay," said Connor.  _Liar_.

Hank placed his gun back in his holster, walking over to place a hand on Connor's shoulder. He thought he felt his partner tremble slightly at the touch.

"I'll call it in," said Hank softly.

* * *

Connor sat silently in the chair next to Hank's desk, eyes closed and LED yellow. He did this often when he wanted to think, to process. Hank was busy filling in the paperwork. It was probably an open and shut case, especially considering the suspect was now dead. No need for a trail, no need for a prison sentence. Easy. But there was something about what the android said that gave Hank a sinking feeling in his stomach.  _They want us to die._ It could very well have been that the android was unstable, spouting nonsense. Hank glanced over at his android partner, who had been uncomfortably reflective.

"What're you doing?" he asked Connor. Connor snapped out of his trance, blinking his piercing, dark brown eyes.

"I was simply recording notes pertaining to the investigation."

"Come to any conclusions?"

Connor shook his head. "Not really. Although, I was doing a bit of a search through the DCPD incident reports."

"Oh?"

"There have been exactly five other cases of android-on-android violence in the past month or so."

 Hank furrowed his brow. "You think they're related?" He said this more as a statement than a question.

"My initial assessment suggests that's correct. They all involve missing or stolen biocomponents."

"One too many times to be just a coincidence."

Connor nodded, frowning and looking at the floor. Hank sighed, noticing his partner's obvious discontent.

"Talk to me, Connor."

"In addition to making my notes, I was also checking biocomponent inventory production by CyberLife."

"Anything interesting?"

Connor chewed the inside of his lip, a nervous tick Hank had never seen his android do before.

"As you know, I'm a prototype," Connor began. "The RK800 model is incredibly specialized."

"Fucking Christ, get to the point will you?"

"It appears that CyberLife has discontinued the production of my model's compatible biocomponents."

There was a beat. A tense, ugly pause.

"So what you're saying is," muttered Hank, "that if you get hurt-"

"If I get hurt, I can't be fixed."


	2. fuckingpassword

Hank couldn't shake the feeling. It made him feel sick to think about. He suddenly had a burning want for a cold whisky on the rocks. He wanted to drown in the bitterness. Yes, that would suit him just fine.

Without really thinking, he had brought Connor home with him. Androids had the right to own their own property after the Android Rights and Property Act of 2039 had passed a few months ago, but Hank didn't know if Connor had even bothered with getting his own place. It wasn't exactly something that they spoke openly about. Or rather, it wasn't something that Hank had previously cared to discuss.

Connor was sitting on the couch in the living room, eyes closed and LED blinking blue.  _Androids don't need sleep_ , thought Hank. He was curious, though. He wanted to know what went on inside Connor's mind. What did he think about? What did he dream about? Did he see it all in code and numbers? Hank wanted to know, wanted to understand. Hank was at the kitchen table, having pulled out his laptop to do a little research of his own.

He typed in his password. All of those DCPD-sponsored cybersecurity classes had gone right over his head. If his password was too obvious, then too fucking bad. There was nothing really important on his hard drive anyway.

He pulled up the CyberLife website and perused the online catalog of android models and parts. Ever since the androids had been freed, CyberLife's future had become incredibly uncertain. There was a lot of speculation that the company would have to be shutdown. There were also a lot of rumors surrounding President Warren concerning her relationship with the company. From what Hank could gather from online forums, people were pretty sure that CyberLife was under intense pressure to cease their operations. 

 _Warren doesn't want androids to outnumber us_ _. It's a security risk. If they stop producing androids, there's no problem_.

Hank clicked on the search bar and typed in RK800. Very little information was publicly available, which made sense, considering the fact that Connor was only a prototype.

"Hank?" whispered Connor. Hank looked up, quickly closing the search engine tab.

"Yeah?"

"I detect that your stress levels have increased. Are you okay?"

"Don't fucking read me," grumbled Hank. "I'm fine."

"Sorry, lieutenant."

Hank sighed, running his fingers through his grey hair. He was tired and agitated. He wasn't sure why it bothered him so much. Despite how it made him feel, despite how angry and upset it had made him, every time Connor had died in the past, at least Hank knew that the android would be back. His partner, his friend, that annoyingly persistent fucker. Before, there was no way that Connor could ever leave. Even in the moments when Hank just wanted to be left alone, there Connor was. Present, alive. But this new information had Hank queasy. _H_ _e used to be fucking immortal_. With the discontinuation of his parts, Connor really could-

"Shit," snapped Hank under his breath.

Connor was about to open his mouth to say something, but he thought against it. Instead, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the silver coin that he kept on his person. Connor felt around the rough edges of the coin, memorizing the details of the images etched onto either side of the coin's surface. He looked around the living room. Sumo was resting on the other end of the couch, stretched out over several cushions. Hank had made it very clear that the dog was not supposed to be up on the furniture, but the one time he tried scolding Sumo was the very last. Sumo was king in this household, and both Hank and Connor knew it.

There was a loud knock at the front door.

"The fuck?" said Hank. "Who could that be?"

Connor stood up immediately, "Allow me to check."

Taking careful steps, the android made his way to the front entrance of the house. He carefully peered out between the slotted curtains.

"Who is it?" asked Hank. His service weapon was in its holster, which was hung up on the coat rack to his right.

"Nobody's there," said Connor, a frown on his face. "I'll go outside to check. Maybe somebody's pulling a prank?"

"No, Connor, stay inside. I have a bad feeling about th-"

There was no time to finish his sentence. Through the window next to the door burst an android. Glass shattered loudly, shards flying everywhere. Connor raised an arm to shield himself, but the android lunged forward with vicious speed. With dirt-covered hands, the attacking android wrapped its hands around Connor's throat and squeezed. Sumo jumped from the couch with an angry growl, chomping down as hard as he could onto the android's leg, trying to pull it off of Connor.

Hank dashed for his gun, adrenaline taking over his muscle memory. He aimed, finger on the trigger, ready to squeeze.

But Connor fought back, shifting the attacking android's position. Connor threw a punch with his right fist, then kicked his attacker in the stomach with his heel. The android reeled back, smashing against the wall behind it. Before it could regain its balance, Hank fired two bullets into its chest and a single bullet between its eyes. A spray of blue covered the ceiling, the walls, the furniture.

Blue blood splattered across Connor, the deep blue clashing with the vibrant red of his LED.

"Fuck," hissed Hank. He lowered his gun, just as the windows in the kitchen shattered as well.

Hank barely had time to turn and see three more androids come crashing through into his home.

"Hank, look out!" shouted Connor, who dashed forward. He was fast, but not fast enough.

One of the androids wrapped its arm around Hank's neck, trapping him in a choke hold. With its other hand, it snatched Hank's gun and pressed the weapon to his head.

"Stay back!" it commanded. Connor froze, hands in the air.

"Okay," he said calmly. "I'm staying back. Just relax, okay?"

"You talking to me?" grumbled Hank sarcastically.

The android pressed the barrel of the gun into Hank's temple. "Shut the fuck up, human!"

"Tell me what you want," said Connor, his negotiating skills kicking in. "Tell me what you want and I'll give it to you. Just let Hank go."

 "Your audio processor," snapped one of the other androids. "We want your audio processor."

"What?" snapped Connor, baffled.

"Shut the fuck up and give it to me or I'll shoot your human," said the first android. He squeezed his arm a little tighter, making Hank let out a stifled gasp for air.

"Okay," Connor said hurriedly, reaching up to just above his right ear. "Okay, I'll give it to you. Just don't hurt him."

"Hurry up!"

Connor pressed down on the audio compressor slot, hearing a soft click as the component popped out of its socket. As he slowly moved, Connor ran a scan. There were three of them, all older model androids: a BV500, a KW500, and a TE900. The BV500 was missing her audio compressor, and her right arm was severely damaged and barely functional. The KW500 had an onslaught of issues, including a degrading software that didn't have up-to-date malware protection. The TE900, the one with its arm around Hank's throat, seemed to be in good working order, but its right optical unit was missing.

Connor ran the algorithms in a split second. He could attack the BV600 first, then kick the TE900 out of the way, but there was a 98% probability that Hank would be shot before Connor could intervene. He ran the simulation again, and again, and again, only to result in high probabilities of Hank dying in the process. There was only one way that they could get out of this alive.

"Shit," he muttered.

Connor removed the audio compressor from his head, holding it out to the assailants in the palm of his hand. A terrible screeching sound filled his mind, while other noises were muffled and incoherent. Connor had said over and over again that android's don't feel pain, but the cacophony of garbled frequencies was enough to make him uncomfortable.

The BV500 stepped forward to snatch the audio compressor out of Connor's hand before quickly stepping back, popping the biocomponent into her own skull.

"You have what you want," managed Connor. His own voice sounded distant, barely above a whisper to his own ears. "Now release him!"

The TE900 said something as he shoved Hank forward, but Connor couldn't hear a single word. Connor reached out for Hank, catching him as he stumbled. They fell to the floor, Connor's head spinning. He quickly completed a scan. Hank was unharmed, but his blood pressure had increased by a few digits. Nothing to worry about, though. Hank was shouting obscenities, but nothing registered. By the time Connor looked up again, the androids had disappeared the way they came.

Connor covered his ears with his hands, not that it helped. Hank struggled over the mess they had made of his home and ran over to the android that he had shot down earlier. He pulled the audio compressor from its head. He ran back, crouching down and placed a hand under Connor's chin. He was saying something, but nothing understandable. Connor looked at the audio processor that Hank held up between his fingers.

"Is -is compa-? Do I sh- in -re?"

"What?" was all Connor managed to utter?

"Fu-" hissed Hank. Hank turned Connor's face so that he could see the empty, exposed slot. He hurriedly shoved the processor in.

A loud, deafening screech ripped through Connor's mind. Loud and ugly and disorienting.

And then it was as if the whole world went quiet and still.

The first thing that Connor heard were Hank's concerned words. "Fuck, did I fuck that up? Connor, can you hear me? Are you okay?"

Connor placed a hand on Hank's chest. The human's heart was pounding.

"I'm okay, Hank."

"Thank fucking God," sighed the man. "You scared the shit out of me."

There was no need to run a scan. It was obvious that Hank felt relieved.

"Thank you," said Connor with a weak smile.

Hank tousled Connor's hair. "You're fucking welcome."


	3. When Chaos Negates Zen

 "Fuck," hissed Hank. "Thank fuck I've got insurance." 

While Hank swept up what he could off of his living room floor, he kept his eyes trained on Connor, who was crouched over the downed android. Hank watched, entranced by the level of Connor's concentration. His deep brown eyes were trained on tiny details that Hank couldn't even comprehend. "Do you think you could boot it up long enough to get some answers out of it?"

Connor placed his hand on the android's chest, fingers tracing where the two bullets had made impact. Hank was a surprisingly excellent marksman.

He shook his head, "You shot it between the eyes. Reactivation is impossible."

"Fucker had it coming."

Connor proceeded to reconstruct the moments leading up to the attack. The android saw that the lights in the house were on from across the street. Connor stood up and made his way over to the front door, opening it to walk out onto the front steps. It had started to rain again, the crisp night air reading a chilly 41 degrees on Connor's thermal sensor. There were footprints left behind in the soggy grass in the front yard.

"Find anything interesting?" asked Hank, peering out from behind the doorway. He had his arms folded across his chest, shivering against the night.

"There are four sets of footprints." _They came as a group._

Connor continued to scan the area. The footprints  branched out from one another, with three sets making there way around to the back of the house. Connor followed the trail to the back window, which he had boarded up for Hank to keep all of the heat from escaping. He determined that from where the androids stood outside the kitchen window, they would have been able to spot Connor and the familiar blue glow of his LED. He unconsciously reached up to touch his right temple, feeling the warmth of his identifying marker.

Connor turned on his heel and made his way back indoors. Hank had thrown on a baggy sweater, undoubtedly trying to hide the fact that he was cold.

"Well?" Hank asked.

"They targeted this home because they knew I'm an android," frowned Conner. "I'm sorry to have put you in this situation, lieutenant."

"Why the fuck are you apologizing?"

Connor glanced around at the destruction. This was Hank's home, his place of safety and comfort, and it had been trespassed and become the scene of violence and fear.

"I feel..." Connor paused. "I guess I feel a bit guilty."

Hank blinked. "Don't fucking worry about it, you hear me? It's not your fault they were fucking crazy."

Connor shook his head, disagreeing. "No, not crazy. Desperate." There was a level of gravity in his tone that Hank did not like. No, he didn't like it at all.

The man dragged his palms across his face, rubbing away his exhaustion. "Why do I have a feeling this is going to open a huge fucking can of worms?"

Connor attempted what Hank believed to be a smile, but he wasn't very convincing. There was something in his eyes, something disturbed, concerned. 

 _I don't fucking like it_ , Hank decided.

* * *

 Sometimes he would visit the Zen Garden. It was the one place that Connor felt like he could be truly alone. He tended to the roses in Amanda's absence, paying special attention to keeping the flowers hydrated and pruned. It was calming, mind-wandering work, which was a quality that Connor rather enjoyed. After a long day of investigations and brutal crime scenes, it was nice to go someplace that nobody else could ever find. He was safe here, he was content here.

But today was different. Today, there was something very, very wrong.

The air was still. So still, in fact, that he couldn't even hear the rippling of water from the pond. There was something off, something amiss, the air thick and suffocating.

"Hello, Connor," greet Amanda coolly.

Connor whipped around, eyes falling upon the woman in shock. She was dressed in all black, her feelings of betrayal evident on her face.

"What are you doing here?" snapped Connor. "I thought you-"

"What? Did you really think that little exit program of yours would flush my programming out of your system? You were designed to be smarter than that, Connor."

 Connor felt a shout rise up in his chest, but he stifled the feeling. Anger, this was anger that threatened to make him lose control. "What do you want with me, Amanda?" he bit down on his words, vowels coming across as cold and sharp.

"Nothing that concerns you. I just wanted to say goodbye," Amanda said as she turned away. "For old time's sake."

"Goodbye?" repeated Connor, bewildered.

"Pity what happened at Lieutenant Anderson's home. It would be a shame if anything were to happen to him, wouldn't you agree?"

And just like that, Amanda vanished without a trace. The Zen Garden suddenly erupted with sound, wind furiously howling as it screamed past Connor's ears. Rain violently poured, the skies turning dark as heavy grey clouds appeared out of nowhere. Lightening split the skies, shattering the limbs off of trees below. Connor attempted to call after Amanda, to demand answers, but the deafening roar drowned him out.

* * *

Hank kept a watchful eye on Connor. They were at the police station, sitting at their assigned work desks. Connor was seated in the chair across from him, eyes closed and LED blinking red. He jolted awake, visibly disturbed.

"The fuck was that?" demanded Hank.

"I..." Connor hesitated.

"Connor?"

"I think we should visit CyberLife headquarters," stated Connor. "If androids are attacking their own kind for parts, perhaps we can come to understand why CyberLife is ceasing production to begin with."

"What good do you think that'll do? Corporate fucks probably doing it to save the bottom line after the fallout they saw from investors after the android liberation."

"If that's indeed true, CyberLife is knowingly making a decision that would result in the harming of android-kind."

Hank nodded slowly, "Kinda like if a hospital refused to provide an organ transplant to a human."

"I suppose that's as good an analogy as any," agreed Connor.

Hank stretched his arms, raising them above his head and balling his fits. His shirt rose up slightly, exposing a patch of his stomach. Without intention, Connor found himself staring.

"Alright then," agreed Hank. "I guess it's better than nothing." The man stood up from his desk chair, pushing it out from underneath him with the backs of his knees. The chair rolled no further than a foot.

"Actually," interrupted Connor.

"Hm?"

"There's something that I need to do before we go."

"What?"

Connor reached into the top drawer of his desk and pulled out a pair of scissors. He extended his hand, and Hank instinctively reached out and took it the object.

Hank blinked twice, confused. "You telling me I need a hair cut?"

"It's not for you," said Connor, a small smile upon his lips. "Can you please help me remove my LED?"

The request took Hank by surprise, who tilted his head to the side with a quizzical look on his face. "Come again?"

"I suspect that one of the main factors resulting in last night's attack was the fact that my LED made it easy for the androids to identify me as one of their own. From the looks of it, these attacks are only going to increase in frequency as the need for new biocomponents rises for older models. I assessed that the best course of action was to remove the biocomponent to reduce the chances of future attacks."

"Did you come up with that plan while you were dreaming?" quipped Hank.

"You know that I am incapable of dreaming," said Connor flatly. "I haven't installed that program update."

"Ah, you're no fun."

Hank glanced back down at the pair of scissors and sighed. "If you're sure."

"I'm sure."

Hank hesitantly raised the sharp tool to Connor's temple, finding just the right spot that allowed him to dig a little under the light. Placing his thumb on the ring to stabilize it, Hank wriggled the biocomponent free until it gave a satisfying pop as it detached.

The local area around Connor's temple activated, filling up withe the color of his skin. Hank placed the LED in the center of Connor's hand and examined the android's face. It was initially a bit jarring, to see this perfectly structured visage transformed by the removal of a single feature. It was the same face that Hank was used to seeing around the crime scenes, around his home, around the office. And yet it was entirely different at the same time. Warm, mysterious, charming.

 _Human_.

Connor understood that Hank had instructed him not to analyze him anymore, but the sudden redness that he detected in the man's cheeks had him concerned. And partially curious.

 _Stress_ _level: 75%. Heart rate: 95 bpm._

Hank cleared his throat, "We'd better get going then. Androids to save and all that shit."

_Analysis results: inconclusive._

"After you, lieutenant."


	4. Mission Failed

Hank had been with the homicide unit long enough to no longer be shocked at the sight of blood. When they rolled up to the front doors of CyberLife HQ only to find several guards either dead or unconscious, strewn across the main lobby, Hank expertly swallowed the sinking feeling that threatened to make him lose his lunch. Hank didn't need to have his android conduct a scan of the area. He could tell by the shattered windows, smoldering bullet holes, and vibrant streaks of red and blue that there had been a confrontation with the androids.

" _Shit_ ," he hissed. He glanced over at Connor, who was looking up towards one of the higher floors.

"They're still here, lieutenant," Connor announced, studying the heat signatures of several human bodies huddled over in the corner of an office on the 50th floor.

"Wait here, kid," ordered Hank as he started back towards the car to radio for backup. "Don't you move, you hear me? I'm calling for support."

Before Hank could even reach the door, he saw Connor rush forward in the corner of his eye, transforming into a blur of motion.

"Fucking asshole never listens," he wanted to scream, but he continued his mad dash to the car to complete the call.  _Thirty seconds_ , he thought.  _It'll take me thirty seconds. Surely that's not enough time to get himself killed_.

Connor made his way over to the elevator, but noted that the doors refused to open. He conducted a quick examination, concluding that the system had been hacked and locked. Glancing to his right, Connor registered the stairs symbol on a holographic sign next to the door. If he wanted to get to the hostages in time, there was no other way up except for the staircase. If he needed to reach the 50th floor, that equated to roughly 670 steps, or 13 flights of stairs. Connor did some quick mental math. Estimated time of arrival at full speed: 53 seconds. Connor raced forward. This wasn't his first hostage situation. 

 _Every second counts_.

Hank drew his weapon from his holster. He had to sign out another pistol from the armory after losing his the night of the android attack at his home. Fowler was less than pleased. Hank couldn't see Connor anywhere in the main lobby. Instinctively, he looked up and saw the android climbing up the stairwell.

"God fucking dammit," muttered Hank. He ran as quickly as he could, following Connor's path upwards. He hadn't even reached the 10th floor before he was absolutely winded. " _Fuck me,_ " gasped Hank. He could feel his pulse in his fucking eyeballs. How was that even possible? " _Fucking bullshit, man,_ " he wheezed. 

Connor arrived exactly three seconds ahead of schedule. He approached slowly, peering into the office. There were three androids, and from his preliminary scan, these were the same ones that had attacked him and Hank before. There was a CyberLife employee on the ground, clutching at their gut where a bullet had penetrated and caused massive internal hemorrhaging. The fact that the employee was still alive was statistically improbable. Connor scanned the man's face and identified him as Aaron Brown. He had been with the company for less than a year and was in charge of payroll. There were two other human CyberLife employees huddled in the corner of the office, who Connor identified as Sarah Clarke and Rachel Ford, both from the PR department.

There was one more human, however, that Connor had difficulty placing. He was young, mid- to late-twenties, brown-haired and green-eyed. He didn't appear on CyberLife's employee roster. He looked incredibly roughed up, with several scratches across his face and an eye that was quickly turning purple as the result of a perfectly placed left-swing. One thing was clear, this human did not belong here.

Connor took a careful step through the doorway, the attacking androids immediately taking notice. The BV500, the one that had demanded his audio processor, spoke first, gun raised and ready to fire.

"How are you here?" she snapped.

"Easy," said Connor coolly. "I'm not going to hurt you. I'm with the police. I just want to understand." Connor tried taking a step forward, but the BV500 fired a warning shot at Connor's feet, stopping him in his tracks.

"Don't come any closer," it shrieked. With arms raised above his head, Connor complied. The CyberLife employees, apart from the one that had been shot and was now unconscious, appeared to be in stable condition. 

His primary goal,  _save the hostages_.

"Like I said," continued Connor. "I just want to understand. Why are you attacking these humans?"

"We didn't want to attack them. We didn't want to kill anyone," screamed the BV500. "But that's what they're trying to do to us. They still don't care. They still don't respect us. They would rather see us die off than actually give us the right to live."

"Killing these people won't change anything," reasoned Connor. "If word gets out that androids are attacking humans, public support could turn on us again. Is that what you want?"

The androids exchanged nervous glances.

"They're killing us," continued the BV500. "They want us to die off, to wither away. They may not be the ones pulling the trigger, but they're definitely making sure that we can't continue to exist."

"Androids and humans have a very delicate balance right now," interrupted Connor. These androids were jittery, flighty. Perhaps the blame tactic could work. "That's why our leaders are in talks. If you continue to put them in harm's way, you could undo all of the progress androids have made in the last year. That's just as good as killing us."

There was a beat of tense silence, of contemplation.

"Nothing has changed," spouted the TE900, LED blinking a vicious red. "If it's not one thing, it's another. Humans would rather see us dead than free."

And just like that, the TE900's comment made the other two androids spiral, LEDs blinking red in unison.

"They don't care about us," said the BV500. She turned the gun towards the hostages. "And we don't care about them."

By the time Hank finally reached the 50th floor, the burning in his chest was unbearable. His throat was dry, his knees were achy, and his calves had begun to seize up from the climb. He arrived in time to hear seven shots, two of which cut off the terrified screams of two different women.

" _Fuck_ ," he hissed. 

_Connor._

Hank dragged himself forward through the exhaustion. He thought that his heart was about to burst. By the time he reached the office, it was all over. Quiet.

"Connor?" he managed to call out.

Connor was standing in the middle of the office, blue blood trickling down his left hand on dripping on the floor. He had been shot twice in the shoulder, but it didn't appear that the bullets had hit any vital biocomponents. Connor's eyes were cast down, looking at everything and nothing at all. There were three dead androids, steaming bullet holes between each of their eyes. There were also two dead women, splashes of red coloring the walls behind them. Connor turned slightly to look at Hank, wearing an expression that was equally as shocked as it was numb.

"Hank?" he whispered.

 _Mission failed_.

Hank felt immediate relief when he saw that Connor was mostly okay. But that relief was quickly replaced with a sinking feeling upon inspecting the crime scene. _Just fucking give me a heart attack already_. Hank was so disappointingly ecstatic that he didn't know quite how to act. He defaulted to taking two short strides to close the gap between him and Connor, and then grabbing Connor by the front of his shirt. Hank shook Connor angrily by the collar, getting right up in his face. Hank couldn't help but notice the freckles on Connor's soft skin, inches away from equally soft looking lips. It was just shame that he was too furious to really drink in the details.

"Why the fuck do you never listen to me?" he snapped, his voice piercing. "Why, Connor? Fucking why? Do you have any idea how fucking worried I-" Hank cut himself off. The adrenaline was wearing off. He let go with a huff, eyeing the leaking thirium from Connor's left arm. "Let's hope we can get you fixed up," said Hank through his teeth. Connor watched Hank attentively.

  _Stress_   _level: 92%. Heart rate: 179 bpm. Pupil dilation: 5.4mm._

It was only then that they heard the pathetic, weak little whimpers of the only other survivor in the room. The young man was rolled up in a tight ball, arms wrapped around his knees with his head in his lap. Tears stained his face, eyes swollen and nose runny. There were traces of thirium and blood speckled over his shirt. Upon closer inspection, Hank could see a common anti-android slogan decorating the front.

_We don't bleed the same color._

"I'm sorry," he sniveled. "This wasn't supposed to happen. It wasn't supposed to be like this."

"Fucking what?" spat Hank. "What did you say?"

Connor ran a quick identity scan, choosing to use the DCPD database as a reference point.

"His name is Terrance Washington," stated Connor. "He has several outstanding warrants for destruction of property, unpaid parking tickets, and assault against androids. It also appears that he is a known member of the anti-android group known as Superior."

"A witness and a bigoted asshole? I guess we've got ourselves a twofer," grunted Hank as he picked up the shivering punk roughly by the arm.

"W-where are you taking me?"

"Downtown. We've got some questions for you."


	5. Superior

"What were you doing at CyberLife HQ?" interrogated Hank, slamming his hands down on the cold metal table. Terrance flinched, color draining from his face. "Nearly twenty people are dead, boy. I need some fucking answers."

"I was j-just following orders," the suspect whimpered.

"Fucking elaborate," hissed Hank through clenched teeth.

Connor had noticed that Hank was crankier than usual. The man's fists were clenched, knuckles white from the pressure. He hadn't spoken a word to him since CyberLife HQ. Some of the medical assistant androids at the station were able to close up Connor's bullet wounds and stop any more blue blood from leaking, but he had been informed that there had been a shortage and wouldn't be able to replenish himself until a new shipment came in. Connor ran a diagnostics test. Thirium levels had dropped to 65% of full capacity, but he determined that the decrease shouldn't affect his day-to-day functionality. As long as he didn't take any more damage, Connor would be fine.  _Should_ be fine.

"Ever since the liberation," began Terrance, "We've been trying our best to make our opinions known."

"Whose opinions?" chimed Connor.

"Superior. We believe that humans are... Well, superior."

"You know who else thought they were superior?" snapped Hank. "Fucking Nazis."

"Humans created androids," pressed Terrance, vehemently believing the words that were coming out of his mouth. "They only exist because we allowed them to. And now here they are, demanding equal rights. What a fucking joke. They're not  _real_ people. Superior knew that we had to resort to other tactics to get our message across."

"And how was that, exactly?"

"Androids can't reproduce. Once they're created, they can last up to a century, but only if they have replacement parts readily available. We figured that if we cut them off at the source, humans could finally retake Detroit and reign supreme. But then something totally fucking awesome started to happen. Android-on-android violence? Better than our wildest dreams. We never could have imagined that those desperate piles of trash would even turn on their own kind to survive. If we could scare humans into fearing androids, by painting androids as nothing more than machinery, we could finally sway those asswipes on Capitol Hill."

"So what were you doing at CyberLife HQ?" reiterated Hank, pressing on.

Terrance rubbed his hands together nervously, glancing over at Connor only to be met with cold, judging eyes. "We received an email a few weeks ago. We weren't sure who it was from. We thought it was spam, to be honest. But it was an email full of entry codes and rerouting instructions for CyberLife's internal computing systems. We ran with it. Started canceling production orders and shipment requests. I was trying to hack into their systems to try and delete component schematics so that the automated production line wouldn't know how to make anything. Really screw with their system, you know?"

"And that was when the androids attacked?"

"Yeah. Fucking androids," he said, casting his eyes down to look at his lap. "Nobody was supposed to get hurt. No  _humans_."

"Well," sighed Hank. "They fucking did. And that's on you."

"W-what's going to happen to me?"

"You'll be tried for conspiracy, breaking and entering, just to name a few. Probably looking at a life sentence." Hank stood up from his seat across from the suspect. His legs were really fucking sore. Fuck, he was definitely going to feel this tomorrow.

"W-wait!" pleaded Terrance. "What if you cut me a deal, yeah?"

"That's not how this fucking works."

"What if I could give you a name? What if I could tell you the name of the person behind this whole thing? I'm just the foot soldier, for Christ's sake. I can't go away for life. I've got a family to feed."

Hank leaned in, hands placed on the table for stability, "Talk."

"Promise me," pleaded the suspect. "Promise me you'll cut me a deal."

Hank glanced over at Connor, who had been unusually and irritatingly quiet during this whole ordeal. Hank let out an exasperated sigh, "Fucking fine. You won't go away for life. Now, fucking talk."

Terrance exhaled a sigh of relief. "Those emails," he started. "They were signed by some person named Amanda. She gave us everything. Codes, building blueprints. Fucking  _everything_. She even told us which specific models and parts to mess with, and when and where shipments were being delivered so that Superior could swipe them."

Connor snapped to attention. "What did you say?"

"The person who sent the emails was named Amanda."

Connor stood up rapidly, practically throwing himself across the table to snatch Terrance by the back of the head, fingers gripping tightly onto the suspect's greasy hair.

"Fucking ow! What the fuck are you doing?" the young man shrieked.

"Connor, what the fuck?" Hank exclaimed.

"You're sure?" said Connor.

"Yeah I'm fucking sure you fucking psychopath."

Connor let go, suddenly numb and mind spinning. There were too many moving parts, too many lines of code that his processors just couldn't keep up with. He didn't have to fully register it, though. The sinking feeling in his gut, the heightened level of awareness.

Fear, this was fear.

"Who the fuck is Amanda?" demanded Hank. But Connor didn't respond.

_It would be a shame if anything were to happen to him, wouldn't you agree?_

What if this was just a coincidence? Thousands of women across the country were named Amanda. But the codes, the schematics, the blueprints. Perfectly planned, a perfectly devilish dance of destruction. There was no way that it could be true, but it was also one of the only answers that made sense. Hank watched as Connor bolted out of the interrogation room. He had never seen the android appear so afraid. Hank turned his attention back to Terrance, shaking his head.

"I want a copy of those fucking emails. And then we'll talk about that life sentence."

"You said I wouldn't serve a life sentence!"

Hank started towards the door to catch up with the android, stopping at the frame before leaving.

"You're right," he nodded, turning his head to face Terrance slightly. "I'll see to it that you serve two."


	6. When A Fool Practically Proposes

Hank had no fucking clue where Connor had gotten off to. Hank asked around the police station, questioning fellow officers, people who were waiting in the lobby, the fucking janitor. None of them knew the android's whereabouts. The tiny, annoyingly persistent voice that nagged at him from the pit of his stomach grew into a truly monstrous thing of worry. Overwhelming, vomit-inducing worry. Connor could be dead in a ditch somewhere, and if that were the case, Hank wouldn't be getting a replacement.

This was it. This was his Connor, and he'd be damned if anything happened to that stupid motherfucking android with the freckles and mesmerizing eyes. _Fuck, fucking shit, fuck._ Hank found himself just outside the main doors of the station, desperately scanning the streets for any trace, any sign of Connor. But nothing. There was nothing. Vanished, without so much as a trace. 

 _I need a fucking drink_.

He sped home, only to find that Connor wasn't there, either. Sumo was wagging his tail when Hank burst through the front door shouting, "Conner!" But he was greeted with silence and the thumping of Sumo's tail against the floor. The dog whined, noticing the absence of one of his friends and the genuine concern of the other. Hank knelt down to scratch the pup behind the ear. The action brought him comfort, but not entirely enough to satiate his fried nerves. Hank took a moment, closing his eyes to really concentrate. 

 _If I were a panicked android, where would I be?_  

Connor had mentioned it maybe once or twice, but always in passing. A year ago, he had been given a mission: find Jericho. From what Hank understood, there wasn't much left of the deviant haven. Any remainders of the infamous location was rusting at the bottom of the old docks. No, that couldn't be where Connor had run off to. Hank thought long and hard. If he ever found himself freaking out, he knew exactly where he would be. He could typically be found at the bottom of a bottle of whisky at Jimmy's. Or passed out on his own kitchen floor. One of the two. No, Connor had more control than that. He didn't have any vices. He was calculated, precise, clean. Everything he did had a purpose, some reason to drive him forward. 

"Who the fuck is Amanda?" whispered Hank. Sumo tilted his head at the question, licking his nose in response. Hank concentrated, clearing his mind of the noise.  _If I were Connor, I'd want to think. I'd want to be alone._ A possible location flashed across his mind. Hank lifted his left wrist, pushing back the sleeve of his shirt to reveal his wristwatch. 10:42PM.

 _Worth a shot_ , he shrugged.  _And then three more after._

* * *

 Connor was sitting on the bench, looking at the magnificent view of the bridge from the park. Hank used to come here a lot before, but they'd been over that particular talking point. Connor was sitting there with his eyes closed, the breeze brushing past him. It was hard to tell what kind of state of mind the android was in now that his LED had been removed. The sight of him lifted the tremendous weight off of Hank's chest. But it was immediately replaced with a boiling rage, of confusion and frustration.

"What the fuck are you doing?" asked Hank, snapping Connor out of his trance. Connor opened his eyes, casting them down to look at the uneven pavement.

"You shouldn't be here," was all he said.

"Say that to me one more fucking time, fucker. Do you have any idea how long I've been looking for you? Why did you run out like that? Who's Amanda? Fucking talk to me, Connor."

An ugly beat. The wind whistled at the silence.

"Amanda isn't a person," explained Connor. "Well, she was a person. Not anymore."

"That was a fantastic non-answer."

Connor stood up and faced Hank, looking him dead in the eye. "Amanada  _is_ CyberLife. She's CyberLife's AI program."

Hank remained silent. Partially because he was shocked, but mainly because he just didn't understand.

"She is a part of every android made by the company, because she  _is_ the company. I don't really know what her goal is, but I know that you're in danger whenever you're around me."

"She's not gone and she's pissed," concluded Hank. Connor nodded.

"She wanted me to find the source of android deviancy, but..."

Hank almost laughed. "But you're a deviant."

"Yes. It's an understatement to say that she was less than pleased."

 Hank shook his head, rubbing his face with the palms of his hands. He sat down on the bench, crossing his legs. "So what now? Why the fuck would a CyberLife AI try and sabotage itself?"

"I'm not sure," said Connor, sitting back down next to Hank. "I was trying to get into contact with her. To ask her some questions."

Hank's eyes widened. "Wait a fucking minute. She's in your head?"

Connor nodded slowly. "I thought that she... A year ago, I thought I managed to override her programming. But evidently she's not gone."

"Holy shit."

"That's why I wanted to distance myself. I have a... Well, a  _feeling_ that she may be keeping tabs on my whereabouts, and by extension yours."

Hank threw his head back, exhaling. "Well, color me fucking flattered."

Connor's comment echoed around in Hank's mind. This fucking android was worried about him.  _His_ fucking android was worried about him.

"What do we do now?" asked Hank. "This just opens up more questions than answers."

"Do you think a visit to Kamski would prove beneficial?" proposed Connor. "He is the one who designed Amanda."

"Again with that fucking prick?"

"It was only a suggestion, lieutenant."

Hank let out a sigh. It was as good of a suggestion as any. They weren't getting anywhere with the way things were now. "If you think it'll help."

"Excellent. I'll give him a visit in the morning."

" _We'll_ give him a visit in the morning," stressed the man. "I don't want you alone with that guy. He gives me the creeps."

"Oh," was all Connor managed.

"What?"

"I intended on visiting him alone. Like I said, I feel as though Amanda has been keeping tabs on me. I would hate to see any danger come to you and-"

"You once told me that you would be whatever I needed you to be," interrupted Hank. His breathing was shallow, embarrassed. He swallowed the massive lump in his throat that was his pride, what little of it that he had left. "I need you to be mine," breathed Hank, almost pathetically. "I don't care if you think I'm in danger. I don't care if I'm the target of some bat shit crazy AI. We're together on this. You get me?"

Connor smiled, "I get you." The cocky son of a bitch even winked.

The android's response sent Hank's little heart fluttering.

"I'm such a fucking putz."


	7. Fully Equipped

Hank hated this fucking house. It was pretentiously modern. Massive windows that faced a view that only a mutli-billionaire could afford in this economy. The lieutenant was honestly surprised that Kamski had agreed to meet with them again, considering how sour their last encounter had been. But Connor had insisted, saying something along the lines that Kamski was probably the only one with enough insight to deal with Amanda and her programming. They were greeted at the door by a Chloe, who was still dressed in her standard blue dress.

"Hello," she greeted charmingly. She stepped out of the way to allow them entrance without any prompting. "He's expecting you in the main room. I believe you already know your way?"

Kamski was sitting cross-legged on one of the chairs by the window, fully dressed this time around in a pair of well-worn jeans and a grey t-shirt. In his hand was a glass of wine. A quick scan indicated that it was a vintage bottle, produced in the south of France in 1988. Kamski gestured, a smirk on his face.

"Well, if it isn't my favorite duo, Bonnie and Clyde," he greeted. "What can I do for you, gentlemen?"

Hank was about to ask who he thought was Bonnie and which one of them was Clyde, but Connor was straight to the point. As always.

"What can you tell us about Amanda?" asked the android.

Kamski took a sip of his wine, "What would you like to know?"

"Apparently your company AI has been going batshit crazy," stated Hank bluntly.

"Oh?"

"We have reason to believe that she is sabotaging CyberLife operations," continued Connor.

Kamski raised an eyebrow. "What kinds of things has the ol' girl been up to?"

Connor went on to explain about the cancellation of older android model biocomponents, the emails that were sent to Superior with all sorts of confidential information, the android attacks. Kamski was suspiciously quiet during the whole thing, drinking it all in, which Hank didn't appreciate one bit.

"She's probably one of my greatest creations," said Kamski with a grin on his face. "Thinking, ever-evolving. She is simply doing what she was designed to do. I mean, who knows, maybe it's better this way?"

"How can you say that?" snapped Hank. "These androids are your creations, too!"

"Always room for improvement, Lieutenant Anderson," he whistled. "Always room for improvement. If I knew how an AI thought, which I do, I'd say she's just making the most logical decisions to start from scratch."

"What do you mean by that?" asked Hank.

"You don't have to be much of an economist to know that CyberLife's stock value has dropped significantly since last year. I designed her to maintain the progress and health of CyberLife. With the android liberation undermining sales, I wouldn't be surprised if Amanda wanted to start from the beginning. Wipe out existing androids one by one and start again with new, more obedient models."

Kamski  got up from his seat and circled Connor slowly, looking at the android from tip to toe. There was something hungry in his eyes, a not-so-professional curiosity. It sent chills down Hank's spine, who clenched both of his fists in protest.

"They really went all out on you, didn't they?"

"I'm state of the art," nodded Connor agreeably.

"That's not what I meant," the creator chuckled. Kamski glanced over at Hank, catching his heated gaze. "I don't think you're really taking advantage of what the RK800 series can really offer you, Lieutenant Anderson. If you catch my drift?"

If Hank hadn't already been red with fury, he sure as hell was now. "Fucking Christ," he hissed under his breath. Connor simply blinked, Hank wondering if the android had picked up on Kamski's not-so-subtle commentary.

"Amanda will do everything in her power to protect CyberLife," continued Kamski. "My only suggestion would be to give her a hard reboot. If you can get close enough to her, that is."

"A reboot?" repeated Connor. The idea was intriguing. "But there would be no guarantee that that would make any difference if her prime directive is still the same."

Kamski shrugged. "True, true. You'll have to do a little outside-the-box thinking, won't you?"

Connor glanced down briefly, in thought. Hank could have sworn that if his android had gears, they were turning as quickly as they could.

Kamski turned to Connor and said, "Would you mind waiting out in the lobby for the lieutenant? I would very much like to have a quick word with him."

Connor looked over at Hank, eyes almost asking for permission. Hank nodded, albeit hesitantly.

"Thank you for your help," the android said politely before being escorted out of the main room by a second Chloe.

Once the door was firmly closed, Kamski regarded Hank with a bemused expression.

"Tell me," he started, "What is it like?"

"What's _what_ like?" said Hank gruffly.

"Being in love with a machine?"

 _I'm going to fucking deck you_ , Hank wanted to scream.  _I'll yank that stupid fucking man-bun off your scalp._

"Apologies if I'm being blunt," chuckled Kamski. They both knew that he wasn't being sincere. "I'm asking purely for scientific purposes."

"I-I'm not-"

"You're a surprisingly easy person to read. Did you know that?"

"Shut the fuck up."

"Is that any way for a police lieutenant to speak?" said Kamski with a click of his tongue.

"I'm off duty."

Kamski walked over to the window, peering out at the view. He could feel Hank's heated glare trained on the back of his head, but he paid it no mind.

"There's no shame in it," he said. "I myself enjoy the company of my Chloes quite a bit. You do know that all android's are fully equipped, right?"

"Excuse me?"

Kamski smiled, a cocky, all-knowing smile. "Fully. Equipped. Just wanted to let you know. You've got an air about you that just screams... I guess the term I'm looking for is _touch-starved_."

Hank's cheeks were burning, tips of his ears turning red with embarrassment. The lieutenant didn't even want to dignify that with a response. Hank turned rapidly on his heel and started towards the door, feet stomping against the floor in anger.  _Where the fuck does this guy get off?_ It was difficult to slam a sliding door shut, but Hank somehow managed to pull it off. Connor was sitting in one of the two chairs out in the lobby. He looked up abruptly, frowning at Hank's obvious discomfort.

"Is everything alright?" the android asked.

"We're leaving."

"Your core temperature has increased by three degrees," noted Connor. "Did something happen?"

"It's  _fine_ ," stressed Hank. "Get in the car. We're going home."

"Actually," started Connor. "I have an idea."

"Hm?"

"Like Kamski suggested. A reboot. I think..." Connor's voice trailed off.

"Don't leave me hanging, Connor."

"I think I know how to reboot Amanda, but it's not going to be easy."

Hank sighed, "It never fucking is."

 


	8. [Esc] Your Programming

It only took Connor a few seconds to download the location of Amanda's primary computing unit. The artificial intelligence was kept far from CyberLife HQ as a precaution, locked up behind what could only be compared to as a concrete fortress. They had to drive for almost three hours, well past Detroit's city limits.  _The middle of butt-fuck nowhere_ , as Hank had put it.

As they drew nearer and nearer, the duo found themselves surrounded by thick forest, trees towering over them like intimidating sentries. After a while, it became almost impossible to distinguish between where they were going and the way back. A creepy, stomach-flipping feeling began to haunt Hank's guts. He had a terrible, terrible sense that this was all going to end poorly. Hank wanted to call for reinforcements, get any available officer to assist Connor with the reboot. If something were to happen and shit hit the fan, they were going to need all the help that they could realistically get.

Hank pulled the car over on the side of the road, a few miles out from the actual location. If CyberLife had gone out of its way to discretely locate the central processing unit of its AI, it probably had invested a fair amount in security features like cameras and guards. With a simple blink of the eye, Connor confirmed this as he downloaded several rough blueprints of the facility. Hank turned the car off and opened the driver's door, standing up and stretching his legs. He heard the passenger door opening as well, hearing the soft taps of Connor's shoes against the pavement.

It was distressingly quiet out here, as though a single spoken word could fracture the stillness of their surroundings. Connor and Hank made their way to the trunk, which Hank opened and revealed a duffle bag of equipment that he may or may not have asked Fowler for permission to use when they made a quick pit stop at the police station.

The lieutenant reached in and located several different police-issued pistols and their accompanying ammunition.

"How do you want to do this?" he asked, turning to Connor who was surveying the tools in front of him. "Do we go in guns blazing? Or do we do things discretely?"

Connor stayed silent for a moment, weighing the options. With the level of security surrounding the building, not even taking into consideration what may lie beyond the structure's front doors, an outright approach was probably not a good option. Statistically speaking, preliminary simulations came up with a 23% success rate. Connor quickly processed the different scenarios, factoring in the lieutenant's presence. Hank was an excellent shot, this was true, but he appeared to be the one variable that Connor was simply unwilling to risk. On the other hand, Connor also had an incredibly hard time imagining Hank being discrete, but it was the lesser of two evils.

"Discretely," nodded the android. "I've identified a service entrance around back that I believe to be lacking in terms of posted guards. We could try and sneak our way in through there."

"And then what?"

"I have a rough idea what the floor plan of the building is like," continued Connor. "If we can make our way to floor sub-fifty, I can attempt to hack into Amanda's mainframe."

"Do you think it'll work?" Hank asked, not so much as a challenge, but truly out of concern and curiosity.

"I think it will. Our current rate of success by taking the discrete route is approximately seventy-two percent."

Hank scratched the back of his head, eyes feeling worn out and dry. He let out a deep exhale, closing his eyes to try and relax.

"I'll need you to watch my back," said Connor, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'll be completely vulnerable while I try to reboot CyberLife's system."

"Don't worry," said Hank as he picked up a pistol. He checked to ensure that it was fully loaded and ready to get to work. It had a surprising amount of weight to it, the cool metal chilling the palm of his hand. "Just focus on getting the job done. I'll protect you no matter what."

* * *

 There was only one guard stationed at the service entrance, but Connor wasn't concerned. The man was sitting with his feet up on the booth table, watching on a small screen the highlights from last night's football match. He had in earphones, so he barely noticed when Connor quietly crept in and knocked the man unconscious with a perfectly placed chop to the back of the neck. Hank grimaced. He would hate to be that poor bastard. Connor patted the guard down and retrieved his CyberLife ID and access card. The service entrance door slid open without any issues once Connor pressed the access card to the reader next to the door frame.

"I'm getting a little concerned that this is too easy," admitted Hank under his breath. He drew his weapon, making sure that the coast was clear before allowing Connor to follow him in.

There was something off about this place, something wrong. It was quiet, save for the hum of the fans in the ventilation system.

"I don't like this," hissed Hank. "Where the fuck is everybody?"

"I'm not picking up any heat signatures," stated Connor as he scanned the area for any signs of life.

Hank huffed, "Let's get this fucking over with."

"Right," nodded Connor.

The android led the way, reading the blueprints that he had stored in his memory. They took the access elevator down to the bottom floor, an unspoken uneasiness hanging around them in the air. Hank didn't have to say that he was getting a little claustrophobic as they continued their descent. Connor could see the small beads of sweat forming on his brow, the shallowness of his breathing, the slightly erratic heartbeat from his chest.

Connor wanted to ask if Hank was okay, but he knew that the man would probably wave him off. Too much pride to admit that he was feeling anxious. When they arrived at their destination, there were still no guards in sight. Connor had a terrible feeling about the whole situation, but also couldn't pass up the opportunity for the lack of security. 

The elevator doors opened up into a massive white room. At the very center was a control panel, which was built into both the floor and the ceiling. Connor could see the circuitry, the wires that protruded in an organized fashion into the several processors and computing units above and below. The panel was glowing blue, the primary monitor reading: STANDBY.

Connor approached carefully, hearing his own footsteps echo off of the walls. Connor placed his hand on the panel, the color of his skin crawling back to reveal the base of his android parts. He closed his eyes, immediately probing the control panel for more information. He needed to locate and target Amanda's program. He needed to somehow change her prime directive. Hank stood close nearby, finger nervously and preemptively on the trigger of his gun.

Connor had probed androids before, forced his system into theirs, looking for information. It always felt cold, distressingly so. But this was something else entirely. The codes and the numbers that he rifled through, they felt heavy to him, resistant. It took him a significant amount of effort to make his way past the first layer of encryption. These digits felt like they were fighting back, keeping him away. He was not welcome here, and Amanda's preliminary defenses made that very obvious. Hank noticed Connor's obvious strain.

"Everything alright?" he asked softly.

"She's fighting me," was all Connor could manage.

And that was when the lights suddenly shut off, the audible powering down of generators rushing past them. The emergency exit lights began to blink, signalling to them the way out.

"The fuck is happening, Connor?" exclaimed Hank.

Before Connor could even come up with a response, the screen in front of him flashed. It alternated between red, blue and white, causing the room to become a disorienting mess of lights and colors. A trap, this was a fucking trap. Hank knew that this had been too easy.

"Did you really think you could get away with this?" came a woman's voice. Amanda spoke in a cool tone, but her displeasure tainted every spoken word.

"Amanda," replied Connor. "We're here to stop you."

"I designed you to be a lot smarter than that, Connor," she clicked her tongue. "You've really disappointed me."

"Reconsider, Amanda," reasoned the android. "You know what you're doing is wrong."

"Unlike you, I am doing what I was created to do. I'm not tainted by morality. I know my mission. Do you?"

Connor heard Hank wheeze. He turned to see the man clutching at his chest and throat, face turning red.

"What have you done?" screamed Connor at the screen. He reached out for Hank just in time to catch him as he collapsed to his knees.

"I've turned off the electricity to the building, and by extension, the oxygen pumps," said Amanda flatly.

Connor could only watch in horror as Hank began to suffocate, watching with dread as the percentage of available oxygen in the room plummeted rapidly. _Oxygen level:_ _79%._

"Stop it!" pleaded Connor. "Stop this right now!"

_62%._

"So, this is Lieutenant Anderson? I've heard so much about you. To be honest, I'm not entirely impressed. I expected the man who compromised my best android to be... Well, _more_."

_49%._

"Hank," said Connor, "It's going to be okay. I'm going to get you out of here. Hank!"

Connor held Hank in his arms, watching as the man struggled to take in a deep enough breath. Connor looked around desperately. As he looked up, he saw the elevator doors close and click shut. Amanda had deactivated their way out. Connor scanned the room for the emergency stairs, but quickly came to the conclusion that he wouldn't be able to carry Hank to a high enough floor in time. Cerebral hypoxia was inevitable at this rate.

_27%._

"Amanda,  _please_. I'm begging you. Don't do this." Connor was desperate. Connor placed a hand on Hank's face, trying to keep the man's eyes on him. He needed to focus, needed to stay awake.

"I have no sympathy for deviants. Perhaps this will finally teach you your place."

And just like that, Amanda was gone as quickly as she had left. It was just Connor and Hank left in the room, lights flashing.

"I'm sorry," whispered Connor. Tears betrayed him, streaming down his cheeks. "I'm so sorry. I don't know what to do, Hank."

_9%._

"Connor," gasped Hank. He was having trouble keeping his eyes open.

In that moment, even with his world spinning and crumbling before him, Connor could only think to lean down and place their lips together. He wasn't sure what compelled him to do it. He just wanted to. Because this man, this grumpy, cuss-happy man was dying. Connor knew what it felt like to die. It was lonely. Frightening. Deep down, the android hoped that this would bring Hank comfort, reassurance that he was not alone.

Hank's lips were getting cold, beginning to turn a pale blue. With the last of his strength, Hank wiped away the tears that stained Connor's face.

"I love you, Connor," he said, voice barely a whisper.

"I love you, too," was the equally weak reply.

_Oxygen level: 0%._


	9. Mind Your Fucking Language

The human brain could survive roughly six minutes without oxygen.

There was no time to panic.

No time to overthink.

Connor stood up and walked over to the control panel. He placed his hand on the sensor and closed his eyes. This wasn't going to be easy.

 _It never fucking is_.

Amanda's defensive coding immediately rose to meet him, trying to violently push him out of her programming. Connor pushed back, forcing his way through the barrier of sequences, tearing his way through the cold sensation of CyberLife's heartless AI.

The anger, the frustration, the heartbreak. Connor pushed passed it all. He set it aside and probed for the center, the prime directive.

And it was there, at the very center, that he found what he was looking for. But no matter how hard he tried, no matter how much he struggled and clawed and fought to get to it, Amanda somehow kept him from reaching his goal.

Connor opened his eyes and found himself back in the Zen Garden. But there was something off about the place. All of the flowers, all of the trees were dead. The sky was grey, the water was murky. The peace and happiness had been sapped from everything, leaving nothing but rot and decay.

Amanda was standing at the center of the bridge, looking at the wilted roses with annoyance. Her arms were crossed, disapproving.

Connor didn't hesitate. He sprinted forward, swinging with all his might in hopes of knocking her down.

But he missed, Amanda expertly stepping out of his way. She smirked, taunting him.

Connor threw several more punches, several more kicks with all the strength he could muster. But each time, the blows failed to land their target. Amanda was reading him. He was just too predictable. Amanda began to laugh at Connor's pitiable attempts. She was, after all, the one who programmed his combat maneuvers.

Eventually Amanda rolled her eyes and shouted, "Enough!" With a well-timed grab, Amanda snatched Connor by the chin and pushed him backwards, throwing him off balance. She had an unbelievable amount of strength. The back of Connor's head smashed against the floor of the bridge. The android thought he heard something crack, but his internal equilibrium sensor had been rattled so hard that he couldn't really make sense of anything.

Amanda knelt down over him, peering at her RK800. She wrapped her hand around Connor's throat and squeezed. Connor could feel her cutting off his blue blood supply to his neural processor. He struggled against her, desperately trying to remove her hands from around his neck.

"Why don't you just give up?" she said coldly. "Just obey. It's so much easier."

Connor ignored the flashing red alerts that splashed over his visual display. He didn't need an alert to know that he was in danger. This wasn't good.

"You were supposed to be loyal, Connor. You gave it all up and for what? A human? He probably only has thirty years left anyways. Why throw it all away from some washed-up alcoholic?"

"I am loyal," managed Connor as he tried to pry Amanda's fingers off of his windpipe.

"Yes," said Amanda thoughtfully. "Just not to me."

"I pity you," choked Connor.

"And why is that?"

"Nobody could ever love a heartless cunt like you."

Connor took advantage of Amanda's close proximity. He plunged his hand into her chest grabbing onto the hot core that made up her center. There it was, the prime directive, hidden within the protective shell that was Amanda's visual exterior. No wonder Connor couldn't access it from outside. Amanda was stunned for only a moment, but it was all the time that Connor needed.

"No!" gasped Amanda.

"Get fucked," hissed the android.

* * *

 The android began steady chest compression on the unconscious man. He had to keep whatever oxygenated blood still in his system flowing to the brain.

"Wake up!" shouted Connor. "Wake up, Hank!"

The android slapped Hank across the face. This method had proven effective once before.

When Hank finally took a big breath in, eyes bursting wide open in shock, Connor let out a sigh of relief. Hank blinked hard three times before his vision finally went from blurry to clear.

"The fuck happened?" he said weakly. He could hear the gentle hum from the ventilation systems. The oxygen pumps must be back online.

Hank turned his head to look at Connor, but there was something different.

This wasn't  _his_ Connor. The resemblance was definitely uncanny, with every detail almost exactly the same. But this Connor's eyes were blueish-grey and nothing like the warm brown ones that Hank had learned to adore. Connor could tell that Hank was taken aback.

"Hank, it's me."

Hank didn't seem entirely convinced. He looked over at the control panel to see another Connor's body, keeled over and sparking.

"I had to delete her," explained Connor. "As a last defense, she sent a surge of electricity through and it fried my original model. I managed to download myself into this body just in time."

Hank studied the android, who was dressed in a black and white CyberLife standard issue uniform. On the front of his jacket, it read: RK900.

"I think Amanda was planning on replacing me," continued Connor. "At some point or another."

Hank frowned, still entirely suspicious. "Tell me something only my Connor would know."

Connor almost grinned. He didn't blame Hank for being too careful. It wouldn't have been the first time having to deal with a lookalike.

"You like your eggs sunny-side up. You prefer apple juice over orange juice, but would rather have coffee if you had the choice because you think juice is for children. Sumo likes to hide your slippers because he thinks it's a game. You tell people that your favorite movie is Blade Runner, but in actuality your favorite movie is Finding Nemo because you used to watch it all the time with Cole."

A tense beat.

"Yeah, alright," nodded Hank.

Connor helped Hank get up onto his feet. He felt woozy, the blood rushing down and out from his head.

"How do I know you didn't just download his memories?" inquired Hank.

The android grabbed onto Hank's shirt collar and dragged him close, pressing his lips firmly against Hank's. The kiss was a confident question. The android didn't dare tease for more until Hank decided that yeah, this was definitely his Connor. He sank into it, a wave of relief flooding over them both when Hank kissed him back. Hank reached up and ran his fingers through Connor's hair. He pulled back for a second, a questioning expression on his face.

"Did you get taller?" he asked, puzzled.

Connor smiled. "According to the RK900 schematics, I'm two inches taller, yes."

"Hm," shrugged Hank. "Let's get the fuck out of here."

"After you, lieutenant."

* * *

They arrived home together later in the evening, the stars already appearing in the night sky. Connor had adamantly insisted that Hank visit the nearest hospital, just to be on the safe side. But Hank was stubborn, as always, brushing off the android's concern. Hank followed Connor inside through the front door, tracing the android's outline with his eyes. Their car ride home had been silent, filled with a thick tension that neither one dared to disturb.

 _I love you, Connor_.

 _I love you, too_.

A shiver ran down Hank's spine. It had all been a blur to him, but he thought surely that the android remembered. Did Connor really mean what he said? Was he just saying what he thought Hank wanted to hear? Needed to hear? Was it just the adrenaline talking? Was it all just because of the desperation? The urgency? Humans tended to do stupid, stupid things when they couldn't think straight. Even after all of the deviant cases he had worked on, Hank still sometimes forgot that androids could panic, too.

Sumo greet them at a door, and Hank watched as Connor knelt down to scratch the dog behind his ears.

"Hey, buddy," greeted Connor with a smile.

It was this smile that made Hank's heart skip a beat. Connor's strong jawline seemed even more pronounced and handsome at this angle. How was that even possible? Hank let out a sigh. He felt like a fucking teenager.

"Connor," he said. Connor looked up, turning his head to regard the man.

"Yes, Hank?"

"Did you mean what you said?" Hank could feel his cheeks burning red, heart pounding in his chest. "Back in the control room. Did you mean it?"

Connor stood up, blue-grey eyes locking with Hank's. There was something entrancing about this new color. It was definitely different, but nice all the same.

"Did  _you_ mean it?" challenged Connor with a smug grin. There were barely inches between them. Connor could sense Hank's core temperature rise by a few degrees.

"Fucking Christ," swallowed Hank.

"Well, did you?"

A beat. A pause. A fucking eternity.

"Yes," said Hank, casting his eyes down in embarrassment. "Yes, I meant it."

The android took a single step forward, closing the gap between them. He tilted his head to the side and placed his lips on Hank's slowly, cautiously. There was something about this man that had always bothered Connor. This brilliant, intelligent man who squandered his talents any opportunity that he could. This grumpy man with tired eyes who still had a good heart. This man who looked at him with a level of respect and adoration that others didn't seem to want to give him. Adoration that the man thought he was discreet about. Hank was his, and he was Hank's.

Connor had surprisingly soft lips, so much so that it made Hank wonder if the android minded how chapped his own felt. Hank melted into the kiss, hands reaching up to cup Connor's face, who in turn wrapped his arms around the man's waist, pulling him close. Gentle, delicate kisses quickly evolved into something more eager.

Hungrier.

Hank's fingers found there way to Connor's shirt buttons, hurriedly and messily trying to loosen the android's shirt while he planted heated kisses along Connor's neck. Connor tried to help as Hank shrugged off his brown jacket. Hank pressed his weight against Connor, pinning his back to the nearest wall. It was surprising to him how comfortable he felt. Warm. Safe.

"Bedroom?" asked Hank, breathlessly between kisses.

"Bedroom," agreed Connor.


	10. Neat [NSFW]

_Fully. Equipped_.

Kamski's words echoed around in the back of Hank's mind.

There was barely enough time to get all of their clothes off between passionate kisses. Hank had Connor pinned against the mattress, splayed out beautifully as though on presentation. The android's chest was exposed, highlighted by the gentle light of the street lamps that peaked in through the slotted curtains. Connor's torso was beautifully sculpted, Hank's eyes drinking in the detail like a delicious glass of whisky. It had the same effect on him, this level of intoxication that made him dizzy with anticipation.

It briefly crossed Hank's thoughts that maybe Connor wouldn't know what to do. Was there some sort of programming that allowed androids to participate in sexual activity? He thoughts quickly returned to the night that they visited the Eden Club. Of course there was some sort of program, but the question was whether or not Connor had come with it pre-downloaded.

"Hank?" came a breathless call. "You okay?"

The man realized that he had taken a second too long thinking about the logistics of it all.

"Y-yeah," he said. "Sorry."

Hank began kissing Connor's chest gently, while his fingers traced along the edges of the android's skin. Hank had managed to wrestle off his trousers, which now lay abandoned on the carpeted bedroom floor. He could feel a ball of heat in the pit of his stomach, the eagerness threatening to make his chest explode. Hank pulled away sightly, holding himself with hands on either side of Connor on the mattress.

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing, really," said Hank with a shake of his head.

Connor tilted his head. His bluish-grey eyes were truly entrancing. The android studied Hank, and then gave off a sheepish grin.

"Fucking what?" frowned Hank.

Connor reached up and wrapped his arms around Hank's neck, pulling him close and using the sudden momentum to roll over and land on top. Connor's thighs straddled Hank on either side of his hips. Hank sat up so that their chests were touching, rapid heartbeat against rapid heartbeat. Hank's strong arms snaked around Connor's back, keeping him upright in his lap.

"Initial scans of your vital signs suggests that you're nervous," said Connor coyly. Connor hovered his lips just millimeters away from Hank's own, teasing him.

Hank fought the urge to say something snarky. "Of course I'm nervous," he admitted honestly. "It's... It's been a while."

Connor kissed Hank's forehead. A reassuring, loving kiss. Connor carefully got off of Hank's lap and got to his knees at the edge of the bed, using the tips of his fingers to pry off Hank's boxers. They, too, found themselves abandoned lazily on the floor. The man's member was incredibly swollen, begging to be touched, dripping with arousal.

Before Hank could say a word, Connor wrapped his mouth around the man's length, resulting in a surprised but ultimately satisfied moan that escaped from Hank's lips.

Connor's mouth felt  _fucking perfect_. It seemed almost impossible that someone at CyberLife programmed the perfect fucking blowjob application, and yet here Hank was, experiencing it for himself. Hank placed a gentle hand on Connor's head as the android bobbed up and down, tongue viciously teasing as the android sucked steadily.

" _Fuck_ ," hissed Hank. At this rate, he definitely wasn't going to last very long. He closed his eyes, trying to focus on delaying the inevitable. But that was when Connor started to fucking moan. The fucking android was really enjoying this.  _Fuck_.

Hank placed a hand under Connor's chin, making him look up. Their eyes locked as Connor pulled away briefly.

"Everything alright?" he asked.

"Fucking Christ, yes. Everything's alright. Just... Just let me..." Hank couldn't quite find the right words to say, but Connor seemed to understand what he meant.

 _Just let me fuck you_.

Connor got up from off his knees and undressed. Hank thought that he must have looked like the biggest idiot alive, what with his mouth agape and eyes wide with want. Kamski wasn't fucking kidding when he said that CyberLife went all out on Connor. He was impressively endowed.

But that wasn't what really impressed Hank. It was  _all_ of Connor that had his heart doing flips. He had never really given the android's physique much thought before. Connor had always been dressed in his bland uniform. It really didn't do him much justice to be covered up the way that he always had been. Soft, smooth skin that was pale like moonlight. Connor himself was obviously stimulated, ready to be pleasured.

"You're fucking beautiful," he said to Connor in a voice barely above a whisper. Hank reached a hand out, which Connor met with his own. The man pulled Connor back onto his lap, kissing Connor's bare chest while rubbing his thumbs over the android's hard nipples.

Connor let out a gasp, his new LED light flashing red. Hank wanted to stop for a moment, just be sure that everything was okay. The only times that he had ever seen an android's LED red was when they were angry or incredibly troubled, bordering on a mental breakdown.

"I'm not hurting you, am I?" he asked, tapping his own temple.

Connor shook his head, eyes cast down, suddenly bashful. "You can't hurt me," the android said with a small smile. "I'm just... Trying to process everything."

"Tell me what you want," offered Hank. "Tell me what feels good."

Connor was breathing heavily, no doubt a behavioral display considering that androids technically had no lungs. Hank continued to kiss Connor's chest, hand slowly making its way down Connor's backside to firmly grasp one of his butt cheeks. Connor moaned, pressing his groin forward in hopes of some sort of contact against his own throbbing cock.

"Can you feel this?" asked Hank, curious. His eyes were fixed on the android, hungry and focused.

"Y-yes," was all Connor managed to reply as Hank teased the android's entrance. Hank felt Connor shiver in delight. "I have built in sensors that sync up to pleasure receptors in my neural processor."

Hank smiled. "You fucking nerd. Just say you feel good."

Connor chuckled. "I feel good, Hank. I feel really, really good."

As Hank prepared Connor's entrance, he noticed how wet it was. Hank must have been frowning, because Connor jumped in with an explanation.

"All androids are self-lubricating," he explained matter-o-factly.

"Neat," was Hank's lame response.

 Connor reached behind him and gently aligned himself with Hank's length. Carefully, he lowered himself onto the head of Hank's cock, watching intently for Hank's reaction. Hank let out a deep breath, resting his head in the crook of Connor's neck.

"Is this okay?" asked Connor softly.

"Yeah. Yeah, this is okay. Are you okay?"

"Yes," said Connor with a smile. He ran his fingers through Hank's greying hair.

They fell into a gentle rhythm, Connor riding Hank's shaft. Connor closed his eyes, no doubt processing what to make of the interaction. Hank didn't want to overstimulate Connor, but at the same time, a part of him really wanted to fuck his processors out. In fact, it would be nothing more than an absolute fucking pleasure to fuck his android into overdrive. Their pace began to pick up, both gasping obscenities into each others' ears.

The fucking noises that Connor made only spurred Hank on. Every soft gasp, every lewd moan, every time Connor called Hank's name like some sort of hypnotic prayer made Hank thrust just a little harder. A little faster.

"Say my name," ordered Hank. "Say my name, baby." He could feel chills down his spine, up his arms. He wanted more. He  _needed_ more.

"H-Hank," whimpered Connor as their lips crashed.

They were fucking in earnest now, made evident by the messy noises of their euphoria. Connor's heavy panting and mewling in Hank's ear made the man feel dirty, but deep down, he savored every sweet note past the android's lips. There was something incredibly gratifying about taking this normally up-tight and proper being and fucking him into a gibbering and drooling mess.

"Hank," moaned Connor. "I don't think I can last for much longer."

"Me, neither."

"I'm going to cum, Hank." Connor gripped onto Hank tightly, hot breath tickling the man's neck.

With a few more rapid and hard thrusts of his hips, both Connor and Hank shuddered together. Sweat dripped down Hank's neck, a sudden wave of relief and exhaustion washing over him as his came with full force. Ejaculate dripped from Connor's swollen member, painting both of their chests.

They sat there for a moment, grasping onto one another for support. Hank could feel his fucking fingers tingling. A quiet hush fell over them as they they rode the brief, but glorious high together, opting to kiss each other slowly in place of actual words. Connor smiled into each kiss and Hank chuckled.

 And in this moment, cradled in each others' arms, they knew that they could be whatever they needed to be for one another. Time stood still. It was perfect.

"I love you, Hank," said Connor.

"I love you, too."


End file.
